Impress
by ulstergirl
Summary: [Red Label] Nancy and Ned discuss the way their lives will be, after their marriage. Adult content.


**Falls a few weeks after Red Label, and before Flight. Content warnings for adult language and nonexplicit situations. This is a clean version of the story; full version at the website.  
**

* * *

"You don't have to do this." 

Ned sighed. "It seems a little bit ridiculous to keep a house when I can't even sleep in the master bedroom."

Nancy sneezed, out of sight in his closet. "Tell me if I'm about to find your secret porn stash."

Ned paused for a second too long before replying. "You're safe."

"You just figured out where it was in your apartment, didn't you."

Ned laughed, guiltily, and Nancy leaned out of the closet to shoot him a look, dust in her hair and a smudge of dirt on her nose. "To be honest, Nan, since we... I don't think I've even touched it."

"As gratified as I am to hear that... is everything out of... the master bedroom?"

Ned nodded, wrapping another trophy in newspaper and sliding it into a box. "My aunt came up last weekend and finished everything. Her best friend's daughter is getting married, and she said it would be a great wedding present, so. I think they were probably expecting a blender, and instead they get an entire set of bedroom furniture."

"So you've looked at it?"

He shrugged. "Not really."

She ran her palm lightly over his shoulder before she walked out his bedroom, across the hall, and pushed open the door to what had been his parents' room. "She left a lamp, and the jewelry box," Nancy called. "Come here."

Ned wrapped another trophy very slowly before he pulled himself to his feet and followed her voice. "Okay," he said, once he reached her side.

"Can I talk to you without you getting weird?"

"About this? Do you want the jewelry box?"

Nancy shook her head and slipped her arm around his waist, waiting until he had wrapped his arm around her shoulders to continue. "How long has this house been in your family?"

She saw the beginning of a grin on his face as he bowed his head, his jaw lined in stubble. Saturday morning and she was here instead of anywhere else, in unraveling shorts and her unwashed hair up in a ponytail. He didn't want to be here alone, and she didn't blame him; she couldn't walk into this house without forgetting for just a second that it stood empty for anyone else. Just as she found it hard to believe that he wanted her as much as she had ever wanted him, that at a phone call he would be by her side, that he hadn't realized himself and shut off the vulnerability and fear to her again. Even once the grief of his parents' death had begun to fade, the intensity of their suddenly inescapably sexual relationship hadn't.

"My great-grandfather built this house."

"Yeah, I thought I remembered you saying that," she said, poking his side. "Back when we were first dating and you were still trying to impress me."

"I still don't think I've quite succeeded," he murmured, and she reached up and took his stubbly chin in her hands and pulled him down to her for a kiss.

"Oh, you have," she told him, when they were both quite breathless. "You've definitely impressed me."

Ned sighed, his lips brushing the edge of her palm. "My parents... slept there. Had sex in there."

Nancy gasped. "What, you--"

"No, but I'm sure they did."

"You sure you weren't just dropped on the doorstep? I always preferred the stork fantasy myself."

Ned smiled. "I just can't do it right now," he said softly.

"You don't have to," she told him. "But... if you sell the house, what are you going to do with all rest of the furniture?"

He shrugged. "Hadn't really thought about it. Sell it, donate it to charity or other crazy relatives, put it in storage... Don't tell me you actually...?"

Nancy looked at him, bemused. "What? Your mom had good taste. I've seen the pictures of what this place used to look like."

"Yeah, well, that was back when decorating consisted of finding the worst possible colors ever, and then putting them all into one room. Practically anything would have been an improvement."

Nancy laced her fingers between his. "I guess I just want to keep as much of your parents as we can, for the day when we have kids."

He nodded, and she felt his back straighten, as though a huge weight had come off his shoulders. "So... one day you'd actually want to sleep in there. With me."

"Well, we've already tried across the hall. I think we'll have to be really quiet, though."

He lifted her in his arms, until their faces were level, her back against the doorframe, and searched her eyes. "We already are really quiet," he whispered, and leaned forward to kiss her. "Stay with me tonight," he said against her mouth.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nodded. "Yeah," she managed, her voice rough, her gaze unfocused. "Okay."

They had half-finished going through his old bedroom by lunchtime, and after he headed to the garage to sort through her father's tools, and Nancy found herself wandering up to the attic. The rest of the house held little evidence of its long history; upstairs, she was expecting the chaos of four generations of family history. She wasn't disappointed.

Nancy had heard the old superstition, that once a woman gave away all her baby supplies, she would probably get pregnant again. As far as she knew, Ned was the only child James and Edith had ever wanted; she found a rocking chair that looked twice as old as she was, matching cribs painted white, cardboard boxes labeled as containing Ned's baby clothes. She tore one open and pulled out a tiny shirt only slightly larger than her palm, a terrycloth bib trimmed in blue, a pair of elastic-waisted jeans.

She slipped those back into a plastic bag, then back into the box. Edith had been very careful with everything she'd put in the attic. The Christmas decorations were in clear plastic containers near the door, but the deeper into the attic she went, the cardboard looked older, more brittle, faded in sunlight. She found three large canvases sheathed in heavy plastic, framed in heavy dark wood, showing pastel sunsets and faceless figures in bucolic pastorals. In the corner she could see a canvas dressmaker's headless dummy, nude save for a wire hoop skirt.

"Nancy!"

"Up here!" she called back. Then she started laughing.

"What are you..." Ned waded through the boxes, maneuvering between an old chest of drawers and a box full of children's books, and reached her side. "What are you laughing at?"

"If I had a flashlight..." She pointed into the corner. "That, there, the dark wood, do you see that?"

Her fiancé nodded. "Sure."

"That's an old headboard. That, next to it, that's a dresser to match. See it?"

"There's an entire bedroom set up here," he said. "Wow."

Nancy put her arm around his waist. "I guess you weren't the first son who couldn't sleep in his parents' bedroom."

Ned laughed, then dropped a kiss against the crown of her head. "It just... I don't know. I love this house, but the thought of being in there, with their furniture, where I used to curl up when I had nightmares..."

"Surely you never had a nightmare. Not a day in your life."

"I thought I knew what nightmares were," he said soberly. "Then I met you, and saw how much trouble you were able to get into all by yourself, with no help at all. Then I started this job."

"Yeah, well," she said lightly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. "No nightmares here."

He nodded, holding her gaze, and kissed her again.

--

She found it easier to talk about when he wasn't in front of her. With Bess, mostly. George was the better running partner, Bess was the better shopping partner, and the two of them seemed to be having an argument over something. Nancy was pretty sure it was due to Bess's almost never being available for any night or weekend activities, but she hadn't asked. She couldn't say that much, anyway. Any plans she and Ned had seemed to become an elaborate dance over if and which of the two of them should mention going back to an apartment, whether their night would be purely platonic after that...

Bess patted her back in sympathy. "I know. It's weird at first."

"At first?" Nancy took a roll and tore it in half. "We've been dating forever. We were so comfortable together, and now, whenever we're alone, I just... wonder. Whether I should say anything, whether he even wants to..."

"Nan, I'm sure he wants to. He's a guy. Ninety percent of the time, he's not even listening to what you say, he's just wondering when you're going to take your clothes off."

"I'm sure he's not," Nancy protested. "I mean... I just feel like... it's awkward." She blushed and stared at her hands. "God, I am _never_ like this."

"Yeah, but until two weeks ago, you'd never had sex before. _He'd_ never had sex before... right? I mean, is there someone else in there I don't know about?"

Nancy laughed. "No, I was-- we were. There hasn't been anyone else."

Bess nodded. "And-- do you feel like the time was right? That you were ready for this? Because I know you and Ned were waiting..."

Nancy picked up her straw paper and twisted it around her finger. "It sounds weird to admit this now," she said quietly, "but if his parents hadn't died, I don't know when we would have... I know we would have, eventually, but, I wasn't expecting it at all. He said it was supposed to be perfect, and when I thought of perfect, it meant having my legs shaved and my hair just right, and candles, and usually our wedding night... I don't know what it meant for him, but when it happened, he needed me, and it wasn't what I thought it would be, but yeah. It was right. I just wanted to help him, because when he came to me, Bess, God, he had _never_ been like that, he said it was one of the worst days of his life..."

Bess nodded soberly. "It looked like you were the only thing keeping him from losing it, at the funeral."

"I think I was," Nancy said softly. "I wish his parents hadn't died, but I don't regret what happened that night. What's kept happening since that night."

"And it's awkward when... it happens?"

"Sometimes. And then we laugh."

"Laughing is good. But laughing isn't all you do, right?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Then you don't have anything to be worried about."

Nancy smiled. "So do you think it's time for me to leave a nightie over at his place?"

"Oh, girl... it has _been_ time for you to do that."

--

"Be right there!"

Ned's voice sounded strange. Nancy swung her purse in her hand while she waited for him to open the door. He stayed mostly behind it, smiled at her, and on a hunch she ducked past him, sprinted for the couch and grabbed the remote.

"Nancy!"

She hit the channel recall button, then promptly dropped both her purse and the remote. "Damn."

The blush she'd seen on his cheeks was flooding the rest of his face, as he scooped the remote off the floor and stabbed a button, any other button. "You-- so, so were not supposed to see that. And I blame you for it."

Nancy turned to him, her mouth still open. "Why? Because I mentioned porn earlier, and I come over and you're watching-- what the hell? Were those-- handcuffs?"

"I'm gonna go kill myself," Ned muttered, then vanished into the other half of his apartment.

She had already half slipped off her shoes while she was grabbing the remote. She looked down at her feet and kicked her sandals all the way off, cast a disparaging glance at the sports channel his television was now displaying, and followed him. She found him sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.

"Ned."

He turned away from her, toward the wall, and she sat down beside him, peeled his fingers away from his flushed face, and waited. He still didn't turn to look at her.

"Ned, it's okay. I'm just... I didn't even know they showed that kind of thing so early," she said, and laughed a little.

"I was telling the truth," he muttered. "I swear, I've barely even... I don't even know why..."

Nancy looked down at her hands. "Is it because you aren't happy with... because I'm not good in bed?"

"Oh God no," he burst out, and turned to her. "It's not, it's not that at all. You're great."

"But-- we haven't." She swallowed, and couldn't finish.

Ned was quiet for a minute. Then he went into his closet and came out with a box. "Come on."

She followed him out to his living room and slipped her shoes back on. "Where are we going?"

"To get rid of this."

They took the stairs down, and she watched with a faint smile on her face as he pitched the box into the dumpster behind his building, then dusted his hands together.

"And that was..."

"All of it," he said, then lifted her into his arms, until their faces were level. "I don't need any of it, I'm happy with you."

"All right, but I'm not getting rid of mine." She laughed when his mouth dropped open. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Whatever was in that box, I'm sure I don't have anything like it."

"You sure?" He kissed her. "Because... you know it would be totally okay with me if you did."

She laughed at him again, as he ducked his head and peered at her from beneath his lashes. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"I can think of a few things," he said, kissing her again before he put her back down.

He didn't suggest going out, once they went back to his apartment and he tossed his keys onto the side table and settled on the couch again. She almost wanted to, because even though her father didn't usually call and check up on where she was at night, it reminded her of the elaborate lies she told when Ned was begging for another five minutes, another hour with her. The excuse of his apartment being closer to the clubs downtown, their being tired or drunk or otherwise unable to drive...

She still parked a block away from his apartment, just in case her father happened to be driving through Chicago on a Saturday night and noticed her car at Ned's place. It hadn't mattered so much when they were both at Emerson, and they never had to do the walk of shame because they could just go for an early-morning jog together. Now that he was a cop, though... her father was a lawyer. Her father knew scary people. Her father didn't like the thought of anyone messing with his baby girl.

He especially wouldn't like the nightgown she was slipping over her head in the privacy of Ned's bathroom.

Ned gave Nancy a double take when she sat down beside him again and tucked her legs up under her. "I have an idea."

"I think I know what it is."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "I could fill an entire other box with pictures of you in that."

She looked down. Her nightgown was brief thin lace-trimmed black silk. Before now, she had equated buying such things with admitting that she and Ned probably wouldn't be able to pull back from crossing the line she had drawn for them. Now, she didn't want to wait any longer than she had to, for the next time they would end up in bed again.

"_In_ this?" She hooked one finger under the hem of her gown and pulled it up a few inches, watching with a smile as Ned stared at the flesh it revealed. "You sure?"

"Not for long," he admitted, then leaned toward her. "And I thought I'd ruined any chance of you actually staying over tonight."

She cupped his face in his hands and leaned back against the arm of the couch as he climbed on top of her. "Who said I was staying over?"

"Like I'm letting you leave, after seeing you in that."

They made out on the couch, all through his living room as he turned everything off, and stumbled into his dark bedroom.

"Nan?"

"Hmm?"

"You said something today."

"I said a lot of things." She trailed her lips over his jaw, down to his earlobe, against his neck, and he made a soft noise, reaching up to trace his fingertips over her shoulder blades.

"Kids."

She stopped with her head cradled against his shoulder, and smiled. "We talked about it before," she said softly.

He laughed. "You know I love you, but you have this incredibly selective memory," he said. "We talked about kids the same way we talked about marriage, before. When you used to give me the nicest and vaguest possible 'no, not yet.'"

"Yeah," she sighed, smiling. "And you put up with me anyway."

He pushed her onto her side and rolled over with her, until they were nose to nose, and searched her eyes. "I want to have kids with you."

She traced her fingers down the side of his face, and smiled. "I do too," she whispered. "Not until we're married, if you can help it..."

"Oh yes." He kissed her forehead, then mumbled against her skin, "God, I love you."

She kissed the edge of his jaw, and he turned his face to hers and kissed her until she was breathless. "I love you too," she whispered. "I don't know about you, but I'm impressed."

He whispered against her mouth, "I've always been impressed by you."


End file.
